


Lasciate

by Alsike



Category: Carmilla (Web Series), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, F/F, Lawstein is Endgame, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Sorry not OT3, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 13:58:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5293751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alsike/pseuds/Alsike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carmilla and Danny both grew up in Merkin-upon-Avon. Carmilla, in the great Karnstein Estate on the edge of the village, Danny in a children's home inside. But at eleven, both receive their Hogwarts' letter. The Dark Lord's rise sends the wizarding world into chaos, and though Laura Hollis saves them all, scars and struggles still remain.</p><p>Now the Dark Lord has been defeated. The war is over. But its memory still lingers. Carmilla tried to run, from the memories, her sins, and the things she'd forgotten. Danny kept stumbling forward, trying to do the right thing. They are both still searching for a way to live in this new world, and together must keep it from devolving into chaos once again.</p><p>[[This is way too epic a summary. It's an HP AU. You all know what that means, right?]]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lasciate

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Thanksgiving! Here, have some Lawstein. 
> 
> Why am I writing Harry Potter AUs? When did this happen to me? I no longer understand my thought processes. And I was supposed to be working on my NanoNovel, sigh. Also, if there is anything confusing about this HP AU it is probably because my baseline for Harry Potter comes from the awesome fics Tissue of Silver and Lust over Pendle. Check them out if you're okay with some m/m in your life.

Somehow, Carmilla had thought that this was going to be the end. When you got caught betraying both your mother and the Dark Lord, the rest of your life most likely consisted of Cruciatus and a brief green flash. There had been plenty of Cruciatus, to be sure, but then, when she was limp and twitching, bleeding from the mouth and ears and eyes, the Dark Lord had taken her face between his long fishy fingers and looked into her mind.

She didn't have anything left in her to fight the Legilimancy. She didn't have anything left at all.

"So you did it for love, stupid child."

And maybe that was true. Was it even possible to not love Laura Hollis, the girl who lived, who resembled no one so much as Sailor Moon, bumbling, incompetent, but beloved--so beloved that even beyond-all-hope, Slytherin-to-the-bone Carmilla Karnstein would die for her?

She'd planned to die. She hadn't thought there was really any other choice.

But instead they'd tied her up and dumped her in the abandoned scullery of Carmilla's mother's own house. It was where the dementors slept. And so Carmilla lay there, on the cold stone floor, half insensate, as they slowly drew every hope from her and every happy memory.

There were few enough of those to begin with.

A scraping sound from the guttering, broken window made the dementors rise up, turning slowly, inexorably. And then there was a flash of light, and the bright shining shape of a wolf charged in, scattering the dementors, tearing apart the ones it could catch. The window was shoved up and a long leg extended in, followed by a flash of red hair.

Carmilla could neither think, nor move, nor do anything but dribble and bleed onto the stone. And yet when stupid Gryffindor, Captain of Dumbledore's army, Danny Lawrence scooped her up in her arms and called her patronus back to guard their flank, the utter despair started to fade, and Carmilla pressed her oozing face into her chest and could breathe again.

#

Carmilla was a dead weight, and the Death Eaters that roamed the grounds where everywhere. But Danny knew the lay of the land, knew it even in the dark, and she moved silently through the wood that bordered the Karnstein Estate, crossed the river where she'd fished with a length of thread and a worm speared on a safety pin, and found the one-use portkey. She touched it, and with a crack she was back in camp.

She brought Carmilla up to the fire and lay her down on a mat. Betty, who had one year of St. Mungos training before everything went to hell, took a look at her. "What do you think?"

"Cruciatus and Dementors. Do what you can. She's tough. She'll manage the rest on her own."

Carmilla started to respond to outside stimuli after three days. Her responses were mostly moans and a little thrashing. Finally her eyes focused on Danny when she was arranging more blankets over her. They'd had a few deaths, so more blankets were available. She looked desperate.

Danny squeezed her shoulder. "Don't worry. Laura will be back soon. She and the ginger twins took that lead you gave us. They'll find the dumb fish's weakness and this will be over."

Would it? Danny could only wish it would be over. Somedays she wished everything would be over. But not yet. Not until she had done everything she could.

"Who's Laura?"

Danny stilled and looked back down. The first words she'd spoken and they were those. "Laura? You know, your tiny stupid-brave girlfriend?"

Carmilla's expression was blank. "I don't . . . Were they happy memories?"

Danny breathed out. She shut her eyes. "Yeah," she said. "I suppose the dementors would have grabbed those first." Carmilla was shaking slightly, and Danny reached out, grasping her hand and holding it firmly. "Do you remember me?"

"Of course." Carmilla nearly succeeded in an eyeroll and a dismissive tone. She was getting better. And then her eyes dropped to their joined hands and an odd expression crossed her face. "I . . . I remember this."

Danny looked down as well and slowly the memory emerged. "Oh. Me too."

Something that was almost a smile brushed over Carmilla's face, and she sank back into the blankets and shut her eyes.

#

Young Carmilla Karnstein hated her mother. She hated her house with its cold, cobwebby furnishings, never moving, never disturbed, the house elf simply appearing in one place and disappearing again to serve the motionless form of her mother. Its ears wore as many cobwebs as the rest of the house, like it wanted to match the decor.

She'd known no other mother, no other life besides this. From the windows of the house she'd looked down on the village that had belonged to them, back when witches and wizards did not have to hide their power, and watched the muggle children run around and play with balls and sticks. She'd met one once: a red-headed girl -- though Carmilla had only been able to figure out it was a girl when it turned and a long red ponytail flared out behind her. She'd been in the scullery, sneaking in after a toy flying machine that had flown through a broken window. When Carmilla, disturbed by the noise, had appeared on the stairs she'd started with wide eyes.

"Jeepers!"

"What are you doing in here?"

The girl had scooped up the toy. "Just grabbing my plane. Honestly. I didn't think anyone actually lived in this ruin. But Willsy dared me to go in after it." She grinned. "I can tell him I saw someone. Won't say it was just a kid though. You can be a vampire or a ghost or something. He'll wet his pants."

Carmilla just stared, confused at half the words and all the sentiment. There were ghosts here, though not in the scullery. Her Great uncle Vlad only ever haunted the battlements, looking out for invading armies. And her uncle Damien had met a vampyre once. It had killed him.

For a moment the girl looked abashed at her silence. "Um. What's your name, anyway?"

"Mircalla," Carmilla said. She didn't like giving strangers her name. And she played games with herself that she was actually three, four, ten girls, all similar, but all different.

"Cool. Do you want to come play, Mircalla?"

"With you?" Carmilla stared at the mud on her strange muggle trousers and her messy hair and strange toy.

"Me and Willsy and Else. We can get a footie game going with four, and usually some of the others will join in if it's footie."

"What's--" Carmilla cut herself off. Her mother would be furious if she left the house. Cold and furious. Deadly cold. And these were muggles. It would be like playing with diseased stray cats. "No. I don't want to play with you."

"Okay. Any time though." The girl grinned, warm and easy, and then ran off, out the scullery door, and Carmilla felt the still dimness of the house close around her like a trap once more.

The day her Hogwarts letter came was like hearing the jailor's keys jingle as he started to walk down the hall to unlock her cell. She was allowed to floo to Diagon alley to get her robes and her wand. Everything else was brought by courier. At Madame Malkin's she saw other children, eleven, like her, getting measured, rushing around with their parents, thrilled and excited to be buying new things for their school adventures. Some were even crying, holding onto their parents' arms, not wanting to go. Carmilla couldn't imagine not wanting to go. But all these children scared her. She'd never talked to other wizarding children, and a muggle child only once. She spoke to her mother and to the ghosts and ordered around the house elf. But she wasn't used to people.

She was going to have to get used to people.

On the day she was meant to leave, her mother had a fit. "No! No!" she screamed. "She must stay another year! How can I bear to be without her!"

As the house-elf tended to her, Carmilla got her trunk and quickly levitated it down the stairs. She had read as much of the books as she could, and practiced wandlessly to be ready. She unlocked the front door with another spell, and set off down the long avenue towards the town.

She ran, her luggage bobbing beside her, mud splashing up to coat her hems. But she had to go, she _had_ to.

There was the train station. She'd listened to the whistles her entire life, always hoping someone was coming, someone who would help her. No one did. She had to _go_. She charged up the steps, and her floating luggage slammed into someone standing on the platform, knocking her over.

"Hey!"

Carmilla stumbled back, horrified that she'd hit a muggle with floating luggage -- muggles didn't know about magic, right? This would be strange. They might call the-- the _police_. She stared straight into bright blue eyes. The eyes stared back, then went to the luggage, then shifted back to her.

"Jeepers. I guess it really is real. And you're going to Hogwarts too."

It was the muggle girl, red-hair back in a braid, wearing muggle clothing. But she had a wand sticking out of the pocket of her coat, and there was a trunk behind her.

"Better set that down." The girl said, gesturing at Carmilla's bobbing trunk. "The ticket office is going to open soon. Don't think the seller would be happy about seeing levitation."

Carmilla nodded, and the trunk clunked to the cement platform.

"Wow." The girl got up and brushed herself off. "You're in your robes already and everything. I mean, I got the letter, and someone even came by to visit and show me some stuff and take me shopping, but . . ." She pushed back some of her hair that had flopped in her eyes. It was so red - so bright that Carmilla could hardly take her eyes off it. "You're Mircalla, right? From the mansion."

Carmilla nodded, then winced. "Carmilla."

The girl quirked an eyebrow. "Okay. I'm Danny. From town. I guess it's just us two. The only witches in year one from Merkin-on-Avon."

"I didn't think there would be another."

"Me neither." Danny made a face. "Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if the whole thing was a hoax and the train never shows up."

"It'll show up," Carmilla said. "It has to."

Danny gave her a slight sideways look and then stepped closer to her. She reached out, offering a hand. Carmilla looked at it, then looked at her, and then took the hand. Danny squeezed.

"Then it will," she said.

The train did show up, the red engine all huffing and puffing. Conductors shouted greetings from the windows. They levitated the trunks aboard, and ushered the girls into the year one carriage. And it was real. They were really going to Hogwarts.

#

Laura was a year below them, bright and shiny and fierce. Danny fell hard. How could she not? She had passion, and drive and ferocity. And she was always, always in trouble.

But just as it began, it got to be too much.

There were things Laura didn't understand, would never understand. She had a father who loved her. She'd grown up in the wizarding world. She wasn't an outsider. Danny had always been an outsider. She'd never let it bother her, but she'd made the effort to not let it bother her. She knew it wasn't worth it. No one would pet her and coddle her and sympathize if she cried. But if she played hard and smiled brightly they'd play with her and share treats. It wasn't family, but it was better than nothing.

Laura had never lacked for love, and because of that she radiated it. Danny just wanted to bask in that for a while.

But being a muggleborn orphan at Hogwarts on 'scholarship' meant that she walked a fine line. Don't attract attention, don't get into fights even if you know you can finish them. She hadn't been great at keeping to those rules, but she knew when she could break them and when she couldn't. Broom races with Karnstein and vying for top of the class in DADA, that was okay. Karnstein was different. Other Slytherins, you hurt their pride and they hit back, where it hurt. Carmilla kept it fair.

Or at least she had. That was over now. This past summer when Danny had snuck out of the children's home and crept up to the manor house on the Karnstein Estate, there were no lights in the windows, and no one to climb down and join her throwing sticks into the river or eating chips and sneaking beer on the train station platform. When school started again, half the Slytherins looked badly rested and malnourished and wore the ugly knot of the Death Eater scar on the insides of their forearms.

There had always been insults, dismissals of those who were muggleborn or had a muggle parent, but now 'Mudblood' was the common word. The bullying was active, vicious. It had intent behind it.

 _You don't have a place here_ , Will had hissed at her. _Mudblood charity student--you're not a witch, you're a disease. Go run and hide with your muggle friends, because the Dark Lord is coming for people like you._

Danny wasn't leaving. Where would she go? And what right did he have to tell her that she didn't belong? Let him try to hex her, she thought. She wasn't top in DADA for no reason.

Laura was furious at this. She organized packs so no muggleborn students would have to walk the halls alone. She paced up and down in front of the Gryffindor fireplace shouting about injustice and prejudice. She wanted to go to the teachers, talk to Dumbledore, give announcements about how stupid this all was.

Danny just wished it would go away. Laura wasn't a target. She didn't understand what it was like. She thought punishing people would make it better. But stopping people from saying that they hated you didn't make them hate you any less.

And then someone burned her stuff.

Danny knew who it had been. And seeing it, the charred broom, burnt schoolbooks, her throat had choked up so tight that she could neither rage nor cry. If it had been Will, if it had been any other Slytherin she wouldn't have wanted to cry.

Laura had gone bright with anger. Danny had tried to stop her, tried to tell her that she could fight her own battles and that choosing not to fight was a valid decision. Laura didn't get it, she didn't know where the kids with the scars on their arms had been over the summer, she didn't know what they'd been trained to do. Danny had told her to not confront anyone.

She hadn't listened. Laura was never very good at listening when she was sure she knew what was right. They'd been supposed to go to the Yule Ball together. It was their first real date. But the day before, Laura had gone and hexed Newly-Minted-Death-Eater Will in the middle of the hall, and only not been sliced and diced because the first retaliatory hex had been a banishing and she'd ended up only having to walk back from Hogsmeade without her cloak.

Danny couldn't deal with this. She couldn't deal with someone she cared about putting herself at risk. But she couldn't deal with having her opinion disregarded like that either.

"What sort advocate are you, if you don't even respect muggleborns enough to listen when we have something to say?"

"How do you expect anything to change if you never confront the problem?'

"Making people angry isn't going to change things!"

Unforgivable things were said. It was over.

Danny showed up to the Yule Ball alone, keeping on the far side of the room from Laura and her yearmates. At least LaFontaine had spiked the punch with firewhiskey, because otherwise the ball was going to be a total bust. Danny ducked out onto the balcony with a charmed cup that wouldn't get empty and waited for it to be over.

She wasn't alone. A bony black-and-pale shape leaned against the bannisters, staring out into the Forbidden Forest. A wash of exhaustion rolled over Danny, but she didn't run away. Avoiding a stupid fight was one thing, but Danny was no coward.

"Hey, Mircalla."

Carmilla had come in on Will's arm, hair up off her neck, sharp features perfect and cold, ugly knot of scar on her arm visible. It was hard to believe that a year before she'd just been a stubborn kid who wanted to beat Danny in everything. And then the Dark Lord had returned, and Carmilla had come back from a summer away and her eyes had been hollow and her arm had been scarred, and she'd destroyed Danny's broom and half her school books. Danny didn't have enough money to replace them. She'd made do. That was what you did when you were a muggle-born orphan. You made do.

A shift as one of Carmilla's shoulders dropped and she glanced behind. "Benandonner."

Danny's spine straightened, surprise prickling at her neck and arms. That was what Carmilla had called her after their first broom race. It almost seemed affectionate. But Carmilla wasn't affectionate to anyone anymore.

Carmilla had burned her things.

"Oh good. You're talking. I thought you'd gone back to that autistic-style silence you used to have."

Carmilla's gaze shifted away, but she didn't spit poison in return like Danny had expected. "Why are you speaking to me?"

Danny hesitated. She moved up beside her, half leaning on the bannister, eyes falling to the ugly scar on her arm. "Is there a reason I shouldn't?"

Carmilla turned to her, lip curling in disdain. "What I am and what you are are in such imbalance. You don't have the rightto be in my pre--"

Danny pressed her hand over her mouth, cutting off the vitriol before it began. "I forgive you."

Carmilla jerked away and wiped herself where Danny had touched her. "What are you talking about?"

Danny shrugged and glanced back toward the forest. "I know it can't be easy, in Slytherin, with your mom. It's hard enough being in Gryffindor and trying to stop them from forming attack squads. Preemptive bullying is still just bullying."

"You don't know anything about my life."

"I know you're not really like the rest of them."

"Shut _up_."

"I know it's easier to go along, I've seen your mother. I've met Will. But you're not stupid. I'd be embarrassed to have you as my rival if you were really stupid enough to think--"

Carmilla lunged, grasping fistfulls of her hair and jerking her forward. Their faces hovered inches apart, breath warm and visible in the cold winter air. Danny gaped for a moment, not expecting this, not even having thought it was possible enough to wonder if she wanted it. And then she knew she did.

"Leave me alone. I've gotten into enough trouble just knowing you. I . . . "

Danny's eyes dropped to her lips. Carmilla froze, unsure. There was something caught in her face, like a fox who had just realized he was trapped. It faded, replaced by a familiar stubborn determination, and Carmilla closed the distance and kissed her.

It was rough, as rough as they'd jostled each other when fighting for the quaffle on broomsticks, and that had ended in bruises and broken bones on occasion. But even the competition of it was worth it, because for a moment Danny felt like she had her rival back, had the person who respected her enough to think she was competition. Danny's back hit cold stone. She let her mouth open and ran her thumbs over Carmilla's cheekbones. Carmilla made a soft noise into her mouth, and for a moment it was perfect.

A sharp crash came from inside, someone upending the punchbowl or something, and they broke apart.

Danny breathed, staring into her partner's wide, scared eyes.

Carmilla pulled back, hands clenching into fists. Then she cringed, a full body wince, and grasped the scar on her arm.

Danny took a step forward. "Are you--"

She reached out, and Carmilla slapped her hand away. "Never touch me!" She backed toward the ballroom. "Don't touch me again!"

#

"I just . . . I don't know how to be with you when you don't remember being happy with me."

Carmilla stared at the small girl who made her heart hurt. She knew she loved her, but she didn't remember why. She had stared into the pensieve at Laura's memories of planned meetings, secret assignations, and they had triggered no responses in her own mind. All that was left was the hollow, empty knowledge that it had started because her mother had told her to. Laura was special. _Get close to her, make her trust you._ She hadn't said, 'fall in love with her.' 'Let her make you happy.'

"I feel like you don't support me. The war's over, but that doesn't mean things are right. There are problems. I don't understand why people aren't being prosecuted for their war-crimes--"

"Like me?" Carmilla looked at her hands. They hurt when storms came. The doctors at St. Mungos could do nothing about the arthritis. It was a side effect of too much Cruciatus.

"You were a spy. You helped us. You should talk to the Prophet. If people knew what you did, knew there was a way to be a pureblood and a good person--"

Carmilla shrugged. "I still remember every time I cast an unforgivable. I cast one on you."

Laura shut her eyes. She looked tired, and older than she had any right to look. "I remember."

"People won't see me as a role model if I say what I did during the war. No one trusts a spy. It wasn't like I did it out of moral conviction either." _I did it for you_ _,_ she thought. But saying that would give the wrong impression right now.

"I still love you. And I really do think you're a hero. You deserve to really live, now that the war's over, now that the Dark Lord is gone. But I just remind you of the things you've done and the things you've forgotten. And, well, I want to live too. I'm not dead. I don't want to waste that."

Carmilla reached out and pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Love you." She gave a tight smile. "Go on. Do something. Have fun."

"What are you going to do?"

Carmilla shrugged. "I think I want to get away from the wizarding world for a while."

"That . . ." Laura cocked her head. "I could never do that," she said. "But, I think it might be a good idea for you."

#

Laura defeated the Dark Lord. She died. She came back. Dying just didn't stick with her. It was one of her better qualities.

The real world hit with a bang, and in her head, Danny was still sleeping rough and fighting deadly ambushes in the brush. There was one fight she could not forget, one pack of Death Eaters and the green flashes as her comrades died. And then, in one of the green flashes she saw Will's face, white and panicked at the chaos around him. He turned, saw her, brought his wand up, and Danny reacted.

Unforgivables were less unforgivable in war.

At the station, waiting to leave Hogwarts for the last time, Danny saw Carmilla standing in the shadow of a pillar, a little hunched, staying out of everyone's way. Danny quietly stepped up beside her.

"Hey, Mircalla."

Carmilla looked over with a sharp glance as quick as a cat, and then she straightened, as if she still had some pride. That was good. Forgetting the week or so when she was absolutely helpless and Danny and Betty had taken turns keeping her clean and alive was best for all of them. "Benandonner."

"Where you heading?"

"France," Carmilla said. "For the summer. Then Oxford."

"Vaterlee?" Danny asked, suggesting the wizarding college at Oxford.

Carmilla shook her head. "Bailliol. The fewer people who know what the scar on my arm means the better."

"I thought about that for a while." Carmilla gave her a confused look. "Jumping back into the muggle world. Trying to pass."

"Why would you? You're a hero."

"Yeah, well, the muggles have better PTSD counseling."

"Muggles don't have anything bet--" Carmilla cut herself off. She shut her eyes.

"Scraped enough OWLS for Auror training." Danny changed the subject. "Figure it's the one thing my skills might be useful for."

"That's a waste." Carmilla's voice was harsh. "Go for Inspector as quick as possible, you're better than a grunt."

Danny blinked. Then she smiled. "Planning on it."

She let her hand brush against Carmilla's. Neither grasped the other's, but neither let the other's lose contact until the train arrived.

#

"Matska, no."

Carmilla hated wizarding parties. But, unfortunately, she knew that if she was going to get a job after university, she had to network. Three quiet, peaceful years reading philosophy and ignoring every wizarding paper and radio station, and she'd almost felt like a person again. It was like the war had never happened here, as if no one had ever plotted to wipe out and subjugate their entire culture.

And now she had to spend Sunday nights in stuffy rooms in Vaterlee drinking foaming punch and not indulging in recreational swampweed. It gave her flashbacks. Not that she could explain that, because reminding everyone that she'd been a Death Eater for most of the war, and then had turned coat and started dropping information on her friends was bound to make everyone hate her. So instead she was just a prude.

Her best chance at not having to go home to her mother (who really should have been executed) was Matska, Slytherin Prefect her first year and Head Girl the second. Now she was high up in the ministry, happily playing both sides against the middle.

"But darling, it's perfect."

"I know next to nothing about magical law enforcement. I haven't even listened to the wizarding news in three years."

"You don't have to know anything. The last three didn't. You just have to know how to make a budget and keep to it. And it's right up your alley."

"Which department?"

"Crimes Victimizing Muggles."

"No."

"Darling, you're perfect. You had 100% on your DADA exam, didn't you?"

"Thanks to my mother and You Know Who's training in the death camps!"

"And you went to university with Muggles. You can clearly deal with them quite well. And you're a Karnstein, so the old conservatives can smile and be confident that you won't go all 'muggle rights' on us. And if you manage it for two years without making a huge scandal, I will promote your ass right on up."

"This sounds terrible."

"Does it sound worse than your mother trying to marry you off?" Matska arched an eyebrow. "To a pureblood wizard _boy_?" She shook her head. "Honestly, that woman. Has she ever even looked at you? You're the gayest witch I've ever met. But it's probably good that she never did, or she would have figured out you'd been spying sooner and your little ex-girlfriend would have died permanently, and then we'd actually have to _obey_ her _. Ugh."_

"Indeed."

"Where is she, anyways? Last I heard she was off on one of her little quests again. Saving dragons in Transylvania?"

"Styria."

"Whatever. No reunion in the works? So sorry. But really, you're not going to get a better chance than this. Say yes."

"Oh, fine."

#

It was hard to believe, sometimes, that they had fought an actual civil war over blood purity and muggle rights when afterwards everything had just gone back to the status quo. The war ended in pardons. With the small size of the wizarding community of the British isles, they needed peace, not annihilation. Losing half the population wouldn't help anyone.

But it was tiring, Danny found, when she met another ministry official with a prejudice against muggleborns, who couldn't see that treating muggles with consideration and respect could benefit everyone.

And it was even more tiring when she found another muggle family who'd been obliviated so that wizards could use their house and play with them like dolls.

"Just young scamps," was the response. But it was treating people like things. It was a symptom of hate. It needed to be stopped.

"We've got a new boss coming in, Lawrence."

"What?" Danny looked up from her paperwork to meet the one remaining eye of Mad Jack, her superior on the team.

"Lannister got promoted. We've got a newbie to train. Pureblood, I hear. Unclear war loyalties. Probably going to try to get us shut down."

"Shit." Danny's hands tightened into fists. If this new manager was going to try to shut them down, they would have a fight on their hands.

"We're pranking the office," Tweets and James said in unison. "Come help. You do a great Bat-Bogie."

When the new boss strode in, Danny froze. Heeled boots and a long coat and perfect cheekbones. And then she walked into her office.

Danny covered her face. There was the flash of sparks, and some crashing. Carmilla stormed out of the office, which, behind her was now awash in chaos and stood in front of the team.

"Whoever did that is cleaning it up," she snapped. She was a little pale, sweat visible on her cheeks, hair only a little mussed. Danny felt like shit. At least she'd stopped Tweets and James from doing any flashbangs. But doing any pranking after the war was asking for someone to have an episode. She hadn't even imagined, though, that it could be--

Carmilla's eyes fixed on her. "You're in charge of it, Lawrence," she said. "If it's not fixed, it's on you."

Danny flinched at hearing her actual name come out of Carmilla's mouth. She was pissed. "Got it," she said.

Mad Jack looked at her, one eye wide at her sudden capitulation. "Look," he said, "You are just a Ministry stooge. You can't come in here and order us around. These are our jobs. We know what we're doing."

Carmilla made a gesture for silence. "Shut up," she said. "I know exactly what I am and I know exactly what I am here for. You are Aurors. You do the policing. I am the manager, and I do the budget. If you get your work in and don't make me overrun my budget we can happily ignore each other for two years until I am moved out of this mess. Okay?"

"You're not here to shut us down?" Danny asked.

Carmilla looked at her, confusion and then comprehension crossing her face. "No," she said. "Not yet, at least. And if they tell me I should . . . well, you have until then to prove yourselves useful. So why don't we all just get back to work?"

She walked out. Danny went to follow, but Mad Jack grabbed her. "You know her."

"I didn't realize, but yeah. We were in the same year at school." She didn't mention the fact that they were from the same village, those summers before the Dark Lord had returned where Danny had thrown stones up at the window in the mansion and Carmilla had snuck out, and they'd spent hours talking about a life that no one else around them understood. "And yeah, her loyalties were questionable during the war because she was Laura Hollis's secret girlfriend, and our spy."

"Oh," Jack said, sounding a little censured. It was probably the girlfriend part. No one trusted spies, no matter who they were spying for. But everyone on their side trusted Laura. And Laura could never help trying to fix something that was broken. She'd been desperate to try to fix Carmilla.

Danny had never really seen her as broken.

She found Carmilla in the bathroom, holding onto the cold porcelain of the sink and breathing.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't know it was you. I would have stopped them."

"Why? Because you don't think I can handle a stupid prank?" Carmilla snapped. "I'm not damaged anymore."

"Because it's rude."

"Oh, who fucking cares." Carmilla turned and glared at her. "I'm an interloper. I know it. I am not qualified to be here, and you all know that. But, I'm a pureblood with contacts on the Slytherin network, so I am here. And if they tell me to shut you down, which is pretty goddamn likely, I'll have to do that, or I will be out of work. And Merlin knows I do not want to be sent home to live with my _mother_ again. We all know what happened last time."

"Yeah," Danny said softly. "We do."

"I am not your friend. I'm not on your side. You should prank me, you should hate me, you should do your best to get me kicked out, or I will probably ruin you."

"I don't believe that."

Carmilla's eyes went hard and her hands balled into fists. "I'm done with heroism and spying."

"I'm not asking that. Just . . . this department is important. What we're doing is important. And I know you're a political appointment, but you're not dumb either. So, just see what we do here, and then see if you want to fight for us. We don't have a lot of clout, but if Jack and I vouch for you, you wouldn't have to rely on the Slytherin network."

Carmilla shifted slightly, crossing her arms. "I don't have any clue what you do here."

"Then come find out."

#

"No," Carmilla said. "That's over budget. Find a different way."

The team let out a groan, but turned back to each other and started debating alternatives. Danny's eyes lingered though, and she grinned. "Always raining on our parade, aren't you?"

It was so strange to be looked at with warmth. Carmilla responded drily, "You're Aurors. You're not supposed to be organizing parades. Confetti costs money."

"Oh, I know, we could make confetti out of muggle money!"

Carmilla thumped her shoulder. "Get back to work."

"Easy to say when your work only involves telling us 'no.'"

Halfway back into her office, Carmilla threw her a grin with an eyebrow lift. "Oh I don't know, I recall I often tell _you_ 'yes.'"

She shut the door, but not before she heard Tweets and James fake gagging.

#

"Carmilla, darling." Matska gave her a fake hug and two air kisses on the cheeks. "How is your department?"

"Fine."

"Wonderful. You have a report? Give it to my secretary. I honestly don't care about your arrest rate. And how is your delightful giant?"

"What?"

"Your face was so amusing when I told you that the giant ginger muggle-born from your hometown was in the department."

"Detective Inspector Lawrence is a perfectly adequate subordinate--"

"Is that all? So sad. Will was so sure she was your girlfriend back in school. And you were so adamant that she wasn't that you burned all her stuff. Almost amusing how much you cared."

Carmilla went cold. She was not likely to forget the things that Will had said when he had decided to target Danny and she had tried to stop him.

_"What? Is that mudblood special to you? You argue with her so much it's almost like it turns you on. Is that it? Do you want her thick, stupid hands on your body? You want to kiss her, with her stinking muggle-breath and Weasley-red hair? You want me to tell your mother about your girlfriend? She was pissed enough at you for joining quidditch, and now she'll know why you did."_

"She wasn't my girlfriend."

"Save it for Will, honey, I don't care. Wait, neither does he now, because he's dead! I'm just hoping you're finally getting some again."

The whiplash was too much. But that's how it was with Matska, at one moment feeling judged for all the things that had made her join the Death Eaters, and the next, it didn't matter. Matska really wouldn't care if she were fucking Danny on her Ministry desk--unless she could use the knowledge to her advantage.

"I'm kind of busy figuring out what my new job entails."

"Oh, you shouldn't work too hard. I'm going to tell you to shut it down in a couple of weeks."

"I-- don't think you should do that."

"No? Honestly, do we really need a whole department for crimes victimizing muggles? All they do is chase stupid kids around."

"They are the first line of defense against another war like the last one." Carmilla knew she was sounding too serious. Matska didn't respond to serious. But she was angry. She'd seen these cases. "It is easy to victimize muggles. And it's easy to believe that because we can we deserve to."

"Don't we?"

Carmilla's hands tightened into fists. "It would look bad. We shut down this department so soon after the war, and we will start looking like Dark Lord sympathizers. Give it another year. Then we can make a case that everything is lovely and harmonious and we don't need it. But right now we're still hunting down Dark Lord propaganda waving youth groups. That needs to end first, or this will be a PR nightmare."

Matska huffed and gave her a narrow look. "Trying to win points with the ginger? Fine, whatever. I'll give you one more year. But in about six months you'd better start the PR push that you've solved all these lingering ills and that the department is no longer necessary."

"Fine."

#

"We've got a year."

The department all looked up at her, but it was Danny's face she found, as he pushed away loose red hair from her face, and fumbled with muggle magnifying-reading-glasses on her nose.

"They asked me to close us down, but I've got us a year's reprieve." She said it to Danny, whose lips parted, surprise, maybe something else in her face.

Mad Jack spoke first though. "That calls for drinks!"

Carmilla didn't quite understand this, squished around a warm table in a wizarding pub, members of her department buying her drinks, Danny at her shoulder, leaning into her so that something was always touching, arms, sleeves, a fall of red hair getting tangled in the button on Carmilla's coat. It was a wizarding party, and she didn't hate it. She didn't hate any of these people or what she was doing.

Returning from the loo, she overheard the end of a conversation.

"Come on, Lawrence. You will tell us, right? There's a pool."

"You guys are terrible. Close the goddamn pool."

"We will ifffffff," Tweets dragged the word out. "You take her home tonight. Your stupid flirting is getting painful."

"For Merlin's sake, you idiots--"

"Hey," Carmilla slid into the seat and took a look at Danny's face. Her cheeks had flamed red, though it could simply be her Irish reaction to alcohol. This was embarrassing to both of them. They were getting to be friends. Danny having to let her down easy would make this awkward. "Can I make a bet on the pool?"

Danny and Tweets and James gaped.

"It's when Benandonner and I will hook up, right? Hmmm, I could put my money on 'never.'"

She felt Danny flinch next to her.

"Or I could put it on . . . tonight." She turned to Danny, who was looking adorably confused. "How about it, Detective Lawrence? Take me home, and we can go halvesies on the payout."

Danny's face went through contortions: surprised, concerned, hurt, conflicted, and back to confused. None of it was enthusiastic enough for Carmilla to doubt that her assumption was correct. She didn't let the knowledge burn too painfully. "I really don't think--"

"Oooh," Carmilla turned to Tweets and James. "Hear that? She doesn't want me. I guess this pool is going nowhere. Anyways, I'm getting another round. You in?"

Danny pulled her aside while they were waiting for the fireplace to floo home. "I'm sorry about them. They just--"

"They think we flirt a lot, which we do."

"I don't . . . mean to. But I can try to stop."

"I don't mind. I'm not going to get the wrong idea."

Danny hesitated. "What's the wrong idea?"

"Look," Carmilla said, poking her in the chest. "I'm really drunk. If I wasn't, I wouldn't say this, but we're friends now, right? I like the banter. It doesn't mean anything."

There was something confused, or maybe a little hurt in Danny's face.

"Not that I wouldn't fuck you. And that's saying something. Because I haven't slept with a witch since the war. But it would be okay if it were you. I wouldn't have to explain." Her body wasn't the same. It would never be the same. She did her best not to show it, to come across as healthy, composed, put-together, the person she'd always been expected to become. She wasn't that person. But Danny knew that. She was the one who'd saved her. She'd seen the wounds and the broken bones when they were still fresh. And that was why this wasn't ever going to happen. "But I get it, I get why you don't want me. My body is nothing special to you, not after--"

"Hey." Danny reached out and touched her face. Her eyes were intent, so sweet, but there was no pity there. "Who said I don't want you? It wasn't me."

 _Oh_.

That girl with her goofball smirk, the high collar of her auror jacket open, her own scars.

Carmilla stepped in and cupped the back of her head, tugging her down, to kiss that stupid smirk off her face. Danny met her, unexpectedly gentle. Carmilla's eyes fell shut and she leaned in, letting Danny's arms wrap around her and draw her close, licking her way into her mouth, and soaking her up, breathing her in, like she'd never had a chance to before.

Danny kissed back, hot and eager and dirty, and Carmilla half climbed up her thigh, grinding against her and pressing hard for a clash of teeth.

"You going to use the floo?" a voice grunted.

And Carmilla pulled away, catching Danny's lower lip between her teeth and drawing it out before letting go. "Yours?"

Danny's pupils were dilated, her mouth wet. "Okay."

#

"I used to tell them I'd been in a motor accident."

Danny leaned down and pressed her lips against a raised scar on her chest, then moved to another one. She had her own. She understood them.

Naked, tangled in the sheets, they met and knew already familiar bodies.

"People expected me to want to talk about mine," Danny murmured into her neck as her hands moved their way down Carmilla's sides. "As if being naked with strangers isn't hard enough. I wasn't going to bare my soul too."

"None of their business. Hook-ups have one job--"

Danny dragged her teeth across her breast and Carmilla arched, words coming to a stumbling stop.

"Yeah," Carmilla mumbled as Danny sucked hickies into her stomach, her hair falling and pooling against her skin. "That job. Full marks."

#

Morning sunlight shone through the windows, glowing in the sheets. The pale curve of a shoulder, the black shadow of hair. Danny reached out and buried her face into a warm neck. The body breathed out under her.

"Don't squash," Carmilla grumbled.

"Shhh, I'm sleeping."

A screech came from the window as a speedy owl threw its body against the glass, battering away with its claws. Danny rolled away and jerked up the window. She read the message the bird carried and swallowed a lump that had suddenly grown in her throat. "There's been a bombing."

#

Carmilla's expression was flat and her voice was hard as she made the statement to the Daily Prophet. It was a good choice, Danny thought. To people who thought this whole issue was an overreaction, they could read her as bored, as on their side. To those who knew it was serious, she seemed deadly serious.

And this was deadly serious. Muggles had died. The attack had been magical. The muggle authorities didn't know who was responsible. Irish? Islamic? Skinhead nationalists? The target didn't make sense to them. It was just a bit of park that had just opened in the heart of London. Everyone had been pleased, and no one quite knew what had been torn down to build it. The truth was nothing had been torn down, but it had been a private wizards' park, that hadn't been much used, and opening it up to muggles was considered to be an act of goodwill.

Someone had spat in that act of goodwill. A family and half a young couple were dead.

#

Danny felt like she had interviewed every ex-Death Eater in all of wizarding Britain. She had followed every lead and found nothing. She'd hoped that it was some stupid kid, and hoped, in the most ugly hope she'd ever had, that he would die in some public and dramatic way, some shameful way, to stop anyone from following in his footsteps. But there were no leads, no suspects.

It had to be a coverup. But it was well covered.

"Everyone's gone home."

Carmilla was standing behind her, holding her coat, waiting.

"I can't. I don't have anything."

Carmilla stepped forward, her hands coming up to hold Danny's shoulders and rub them. "Exactly. Get some sleep. You passing out when we do get a break won't help anyone."

"I just . . . I haven't been able to sleep." War nightmares. She didn't say it, but she knew Carmilla understood.

"I have a handle of firewhiskey. My place?"

Danny slumped under the touch of her hands. "Okay."

Carmilla didn't live on the floo network. She had a flat in muggle London. Danny didn't really know what to make of that, except that she admired it. She wasn't what people thought she was. It wasn't really set up for guests, and they crashed on the daybed that was a mess of pillows, the bottle of firewhiskey between them.

Danny wished she knew what this was. She couldn't help letting her eyes linger on the pale column of Carmilla's neck when she wore her hair up. Couldn't keep herself from appraising the muggle-cut jackets, tight jeans, and sturdy boots. They hadn't talked about it, after they'd spent the night together. There was nothing set, nothing certain. She just looked at Carmilla sometimes, caught Carmilla looking at her, because they knew now, what it was like.

Nothing else changed. They were colleagues. Carmilla had earned her trust, and that was the important thing right now. But sometimes Danny wanted to just pull her in and know it would be a yes, know she could forget her problems in the comfort of her body.

"I just don't get it, you know." Danny was drunk, she could feel it. "I never got it. You do any basic genetics and you know that the Dark Lord was an idiot. Even historically, purebloods weren't 'pure blooded.' Magical families didn't marry other magical families. Instead they had a village of muggles to look after, and if there was a child born with magic there, they would be fostered by the family. And then they'd, like, marry the heir, keep the blood fresh. Those are the old ways."

"I know," Carmilla said softly.

Danny laughed. "I said that in the Gryffindor common room back in 4th year, and everyone was like, hun, you come from Merkin-on-Avon. The Karnsteins have been living in the manor there for generations. In the old days you'd end up being married to Carmilla."

There was silence from the other side of the bottle. "And what did you say to that?"

"I didn't know a lot about magic. I figured because we were both girls that would be a problem, with the having kids stuff, but MJ set me straight on that."

Carmilla huffed a sound that was almost amused out of her nose. "Still had to remind yourself about 'magic' back then, eh?"

"Meh, I just assumed 'the patriarchy,'"

"Valid."

"They asked me if I'd run from it." Danny stared down at her whiskey. "Wouldn't. I'd run from your mother though."

"Me too."

Danny looked over, unsure of what she was agreeing with. Carmilla was watching her, as impassive as a cat. Danny tossed back the last of the whiskey and set down the glass. She took the bottle and set it on the floor.

"I don't want the war to come back," Danny said softly.

"I know."

"I'm too drunk to floo."

"Come here."

Danny crawled over to her and Carmilla opened her arms.

#

"Oh my god, _Laura_."

Danny was not expecting to drag herself out of bed in the morning to find a tiny war hero in her kitchen.

"Hi Danny." Laura waved her mug. "I flooed in at four and didn't want to wake you up."

"What are you doing here?"

"I heard about the bombings. This guy, or group, or whatever, they have to be stopped!"

Danny covered her eyes. "I know. I'm working on it."

"I'm going to speak out against it."

"Laura-- don't put a target on yourself."

"I don't know, it might be good PR." Both Danny and Laura turned as Carmilla emerged from the bedroom in nothing but one of Danny's t-shirts. Laura's eyes went wide. She looked between them, shocked and confused.

"Da- Car- You're . . . I didn't know you were dating. Why didn't-- why didn't _either_ of you write to tell me you were dating!"

"We're not dating," Carmilla said flatly, and went about organizing the coffee, moving in an easy and practiced habit through the kitchen. Laura watched her for a while, and then turned to Danny, one hand on her hip and an imperiously raised eyebrow.

"We're not," Danny said. "We're work colleagues who occasionally sleep together. Can we not make a thing about this? Bombings, remember?"

"Right." But there was something in Laura's face that suggested this wasn't over.

#

"I think you'd be really good for each other."

Danny put her hand to her face. "Please, Laura."

"No, really. I've always been sorry we never went farther than we did, because I really love you, Danny."

"I was overprotective."

"I was reckless. And that works for me. But I like that you cared. I didn't want to be protected, but Carm, she's not really recovered from the war."

"Neither am I. Neither are you. We don't just 'recover' from war."

"I just mean that I would like to know that Carmilla had someone who wanted to protect her. Someone like you. And she's prickly, but she loves really hard, and you deserve that kind of love."

Danny sighed, shoulders drooping. "You're on in like three minutes."

"Just think about it."

#

It wasn't just one bomber. It was a cabal.

In the department, Danny and Mad Jack made plans. "We can get them if we hit tonight."

"I'm coming."

Danny and Jack both turned to Carmilla.

"You aren't-- trained or anything," Danny said "This is the field."

"I was trained enough to do the Dark Lord's work," Carmilla snapped.

"Yeah, but half of Auror training for me was learning when _not_ to use an unforgivable," Danny said softly.

"I'm not-- I'm not letting you go without me." Carmilla's voice shook. Danny shut her eyes. She got it. This was so important. This was what they could do to stop the war from coming back, and neither of them could bear the war coming back. "I'll stay out of the way, unless things go really wrong. But I want to be on site."

"Okay."

"You're serious, Lawrence?" Mad Jack asked. "You want to bring the boss?"

"Come on. Can it hurt to have someone with Death Eater training watching our backs?" Danny asked.

"I think you just answered your own question!"

#

In the quiet darkness, Carmilla waited, trying to remember to breathe, trying not to see dementors everywhere in the corners of her eyes.

A small signal came in on one of the wandlines.

"All right," Mad Jack said. "That's it, let's go."

Carmilla reached out and caught Danny's hand. A silent squeeze, and then they were gone.

The crack of thunder startled her. And then she realized that it wasn't thunder. The sounds were explosions. For so long she'd had to tell herself that it was just thunder, to not overreact, to not panic. Finally it wasn't only thunder.

The wandlines lit up.

_We've got it! Pincer in!_

_Shit, Tweets is down._

_Breaking for the right. They're breaking for the right!_

Carmilla knew what the right was. She let her training hit. Thunder cracked above her and she saw the running figures.

" _Immobilis_!"

One blocked, and returned fire. Carmilla didn't know the spell, but it ripped bloody and painful across her chest and the man was running past her. She kicked out his knee. And he fell. She landed on top of him and started punching. She'd lost track of her wand, but she would make this fool pay. He wold pay for the killings. He would pay for the fear.

" _Avadra Kedav-"_

She heard the crack from behind her, and saw another pureblood terrorist crumple, half way through the killing curse. Danny was there, grabbing her, dragging her up to her feet, pulling her in.

Carmilla was bleeding everywhere and didn't realize she was crying until she pressed her wet face into Danny's shoulder. Her knuckles were raw and aching.

"We got them. We got them all." And Danny held her tight, and the anger and fear no longer had a place to stay.

#

"Well, well," Matska said, looking over her report. "I recall telling you that you needed to be starting a PR push about closing down your department about now. Instead you're cleaning house in the Ministry."

"Yes," Carmilla said flatly. "We are not having another war over this. We are going to change things."

"Little Laura Hollis agrees. And her weight is pretty considerable."

Carmilla nodded. "I supported her taking a stand on this issue."

"And did you hook up for old time's sake?"

"No." Carmilla, involuntarily, laughed.

Matska's eyes widened. "Don't tell me, you've been hooking up with someone? Honestly, I thought it would make you happier, but you're just naturally grim, aren't you?"

"I am happy. We stopped those idiots. I hope you don't expect me to smile."

"Not even a smug little grin about making your department indispensable for at least another year? Come on, give it to me."

Carmilla thought she could allow that, and smirked.

"Enough, enough, you brat." Matska laughed. "Your department is getting honors at the Aurors' ball at the end of the month. So wrangle yourself a date or your mother will."

"You've spoken to my mother?"

"I was as shocked as you that she didn't have any connection to the anti-muggle cabal. We had tea. She's very proud of you, thinks you have a promising career in politics."

Carmilla gaped for a moment and then started to laugh.

"I tried to set her straight, but I don't think she's ever understood the concept of 'convictions.' She just wants to be on the winning side."

"That sounds about right."

"And as a warning, she's already planned out your career trajectory, and seems to think a suitable mate a requirement. I hinted that you might be more open to a political marriage with someone of the female persuasion, but she's like a brick wall with an idea that isn't hers."

"I'm not open to a political marriage at all!"

"She wants you to be half of a 'power couple.' I think she's been reading muggle business strategy books."

"Kill me now."

#

"Benandonner!" Carmilla strode across the station to Danny's desk and dropped a file onto it. "Do you own a nice dress or a tux or something?"

"Um?" Danny looked up at her, one eyebrow arched. "Why do you ask?"

"Because you're my date for the Auror's Ball, and I'm not showing up there with you if you aren't up to snuff."

"All right. How about I give you a fashion show later?"

Carmilla smiled, then leaned down and pressed a brief rough kiss onto Danny's mouth. "Acceptable."

Tweets, arm still in a sling, and James stared at them. "Wait. When did this happen? What about our pool?"

"Oh," Carmilla said, arm looped casually around Danny's shoulders. "I won the pool. I had her that night we talked about it." She smiled like a cat.

Danny plucked at her shirt. "Didn't you say something about splitting the take?"

"You guys didn't notice?" Mad Jack asked, chuckling at them.

#

" _Carmilla_." Carmilla's mother gave her daughter a very distant press and brush of cheeks. "You never come home. I have all these lovely young . . . people I want to introduce you to."

"I'm working, mother." Carmilla forced a smile, and then stepped a little closer to Danny, who had been instructed to wear the dress that made her all long legs and impossibly gorgeous hair. "And I'm not really looking for a boyfriend."

"Matska may worry about your sex life, but it is important to marry advantageously!" Her mother frowned at Danny. "Who is this?"

"Danielle Lawrence, mother. She's actually from Merkin-upon-Avon. Traditionally, we'd probably be engaged already."

Her mother blinked, bewildered.

Danny tangled her fingers through Carmilla's. "Dance?"

"Mhmm."

Unfortunately, the next time Carmilla's mother appeared, she was smiling widely.

"It's lovely to meet you Danielle. I must admit I've been gossiping, but I've heard only good things about you. Youngest DI in a decade, breaking a case that took down some high ranking members of the Ministry. Cutthroat. I like that. Now, how do you feel about advancement in politics?"

"Ummm," Danny looked at Carmilla. "I'm kind of focused on the Aurors."

"Fine, fine. You can run the Aurors. And, Carmilla, I'm thinking Minister, first step probably a little lower, but we know what the trajectory is. Now the only question is the date."

"What date?" Carmilla asked, feeling not a little panicked.

"The _wedding_ , of course."

Danny met Carmilla's eyes and the shared horror was almost a comfort.

"They really should have executed her after the war."

#

Danny and Carmilla lounged on Carmilla's daybed, TV playing the latest muggle BBC costume drama. Carmilla curled up on Danny's lap, dozing like a cat. Danny's fingers scritched through her hair, and Carmilla's chest rumbled with the pleasure of it.

A few minutes later the twitching started. The small cry jostled Danny out of the late afternoon haze, and she shifted, quickly scooping Carmilla up and cradling her close.

"Hey, hey. It's okay. You're safe. You're _safe._ "

"No, no, don't. I don't want to go. I don't want-- It's summer. It's-- _Danny_. . ."

"I've got you."

Carmilla's eyes fluttered open, and she cringed, turning her head away. "Fuck. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry." Danny pushed hair out of her sweaty face. "You're safe here. I've got you."

The tension left Carmilla's frame. "Yeah." She breathed out. "You always do."

"You make it worth it." Danny looked away. "You've always been the weirdo that made this world less strange."

"Ugh." Carmilla pressed her face against Danny's chest. "I hate doing anything my mom wants me to. But we'd kill it as a power couple."

Danny laughed. "Is this a proposal?"

"Maybe." Carmilla hunched into a ball, bringing her shoulders up to her ears. "I mean, not like I care either way."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

Danny grinned and pulled her in tight. "Your life plans sound like they're one hundred percent trouble. Laura told me I better keep an eye on you. Can't think of a better way to do that than to get in trouble by your side."

"I suppose I can put up with that."

Carmilla looked as grumpy as ever, but there was a lightness to her tone that was unfamiliar. She turned her head, and bumped noses with Danny, and grinned. For the moment, the memories of pain and despair faded into irrelevance, and warmth and hope were all that remained.

###

 

 


End file.
